Midnight Vignettes
by annicaspoon
Summary: A collection of oneshots centering on multiple characters. Contains many pairings of both romance or friendship. Mostly rated around the K -T mark.
1. Induction

**Title:** Induction

**Prompt: **"We all go a little mad sometimes"

**Characters:** Jade Nyguen/Cheshire

**Word Count: **815

**Author's Notes:** This is to make up for the Jade-centric WIP I've had floating around for ages and haven't finished yet. Basically my headcanon of how she got into the League of Shadows. Some references to "Alice in Wonderland" (1951).

~o~

We all go a little mad sometimes.

It's whether you decide to reject that madness, or embrace it, that dictates where that lapse in sanity will take you.

If you reject it, pretend that you're fine, and that nothing's wrong, it's easy for that madness to become even more out of control than it already has. The wildness inside you is fighting against your good conscience, igniting a relentless, internal battle, which can extend to outside your body, and damaging far more than just your sanity and reputation.

Embracing it however…

It's like a sense of calm is induced inside your mind and body. A conscience plays no part in life anymore. The mind is free from any needless turmoil; no inner conflict is in place to disrupt your external actions. Embracing your madness, gives so much more control, so much more freedom.

It's so much _easier._

Jade knows this.

No, not Jade.

_Cheshire._

_("You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself")_

The Cheshire Cat, the maddest of all Wonderland. The Cheshire Cat, who, unlike the rest of the Wonderland inhabitants, who deny any idea of being insane, embraces his psychosis. The Cheshire Cat, with the ability to disappear whenever he wants, unable to be found without him choosing so.

She is the Cheshire Cat, and she is free. There's no more Alice holding her back; no more young, naïve, little Alice that she has to guide through the forest. There is no more Red Queen shadowing her, igniting fear and uncertainty in every part and person in her life.

She has escaped, run away from her harsh reality, and found her little rabbit hole.

And now, she's standing in front of her ticket to Wonderland.

She tilts her head up and sends him a sly smile. Her lack of respect towards this certain authority figure is probably unwise, as he is not only a dangerous man, but also her new master, but she isn't too concerned; there will be plenty of time for her to act as dutiful subject of his, ample opportunities to bow and speak respectfully.

And as disrespectful as her attitude towards him is, Jade doesn't miss the slight flicker of interest jump in his eyes. "So young lady," His voice is intricate, exotic and foreign, "What has caused your sudden interest in joining the League of Shadows?"

Dark eyes narrow, as she looks up at him with a face covered in grime, sweat and dead man's blood. "What makes you think that this is a sudden thing? I could have pulled off this whole exercise just to gain your attention."

Ra's Al Ghul is a smart, imposing man. Jade knows she's playing with fire, trying lie to him, mock him. This man has more information than anyone could imagine, and his stiff posture and elegant robe doesn't deceive her; she can sense the strength he possesses underneath his guise of a calm, controlled persona. Like her, he has experienced a madness inside, and embraced it, and the control it has given him, inspires her.

_("Most everyone's mad here")_

"Now I highly doubt it was _my_ attention you were seeking, young Miss Crock." She freezes at the name as he continues. "I'm sure you were trying to receive the attention of your father, Sportsmaster, am I right?"

That is not true. That is _not_ true. There's _no way_ she would ever want to gain anything from _him_; _his_ attention is the last thing she cares about.

Sportsmaster can rot in hell. Anything _she _does, is _not_ for him.

"I've heard about your little adventures," Ra's Al Ghul continues, while giving silent orders to his surrounding henchmen. "Starting off with purposeless theft and taking up odd jobs for clients before moving into the territory of other mercenaries. In particular, the territory of a certain Lawrence Crock. Also known as Sportsmaster."

Jade isn't going to lie, Sportsmaster's movements have affected her own, but not in need for his attention. _Anything_ but his attention.

"I do find it surprising that Sportsmaster has allowed one of his daughters to strike off on her own in the first place, especially when her actions have begun to have a detrimental effect on his own business.

"But, he never did allow it, did he, Jade Crock?"

"Nyguen," she fires back. "It's Jade _Nyguen_, not Crock." The man raises his eyebrows at her.

"And is that the name you will go by while working for the shadows?"

She scrutinizes him through thick eyelashes. "I'm Cheshire now," she says, simply and calmly, throwing away the persona of Jade Nyguen. No longer a daughter and sister, no longer a person.

An assassin.

"Well then Cheshire," Ra's Al Ghul nods and turns away. "Welcome to the Shadows."

She smirks and pulls the grinning cat mask back onto her face. No longer Jade, no longer conflicted inside.

Cheshire, mad and proud.


	2. The Right Time?

**Title: **The Right Time?

**Prompt: **"The main thing about being a hero is to know when to die" – Will Rogers

**Characters: **Artemis Crock, Dinah Lance/Black Canary

**Word Count: **964

**Author's Notes: **Totally wrote all of this at midnight. Geez, why is it I have trouble finishing one fic, but can spew out another in one hour on my phone :\

This is basically what I thought Artemis' perspective on the whole Failsafe thing would be. Idek, I kinda just guessed that Black Canary would have had a little talk with each other them straight after and I dunno. I'll stop rambling.

Dedicated to cloaksanddaggers8, the Momma Canary of our YJ tumblr family, who all round a wonderful person

~o~

Dinah started steadily at the teenaged girl standing across from her. Artemis in turn, shifted in her seat on her bed, frowning intently at the ground, like maybe if she glared hard enough, she might be able to burn it away.

"So that's it? You don't think there's anything to talk about?" Dinah frowned. All of these kids had gone through more drama than they should even know about that past afternoon, and none of them were going to get through it if they refused to talk about it.

As soon as she got the call from Batman about what had happened, she made immediately for Mount Justice. Red Tornado had filled her in on all the details when she arrived, and of course, being the only female member of the Justice League with a close relationship to the kids, she was left with the job of picking up the shattered pieces.

She decided that she would talk to Artemis first, as the archer has never shied away from her feelings or surface thoughts about different situations, but the teenaged hero she thought would have been the easiest to counsel was proving to set up quite a challenge for her.

Artemis shrugged, snapping her gaze up to meet Dinah's. "The training screwed up, I died, everyone else died, it was all a dream. There's not much else to it." While she spoke with a nonchalance that would make Batman proud, Dinah could see that her words didn't quite reach her eyes. She wasn't as convinced as she made out to be.

"It wasn't just a dream, Artemis. M'gann's reaction to your death made it real." Dinah made her way over to Artemis' bed and sat herself down next to her. The younger girl sighed and rubbed a hand over her eyes. She was exhausted, but how the hell did that work when she had spent the last hour in a coma?

"I know, I know," she whispered, "and I'm sorry, okay? It was stupid."

Dinah frowned. "What are you sorry for?"

The look she got in return was probably the most perfect teenage depiction of "duh" she had seen on anyone's face. "Getting vaporized by fake aliens, screwing up the mission, freaking everyone out, what else?"

"Artemis, this isn't your fault."

"Then whose fault is it?" You can't blame M'gann; it's not her fault she got upset, it's because I died. So, my fault." When Black Canary opened her mouth to protest, Artemis cut her off. "It's fine, really. I don't mind being the reason why everything went downhill."

Dinah tilted her head to the side slightly as Artemis directed her attentions to her hands. "If that's so, why are you hiding from everyone in your room?" She knew that she had hit a spot when the younger girl froze and gave her a wary look.

She sighed and gazed back down to her hands. "They all kept…" She frowned into the space in front of her, "…looking at me like it was, I dunno, a miracle that I was actually alive or something." Dinah didn't fail to notice the shudder that jerked through her shoulders as she brought her knees up to her chest, still frowning into space. As Artemis continued to glare at nothing, Dinah noted how animated her face was compared to most other teenagers she saw today. She already knew that the archer was the most expressive of all her teammates, and unlike her friends, she was never really afraid to show it.

"Why does that concern you?" Dinah leaned forward as she asked the question and Artemis glanced at her with a wry expression.

"I didn't realize they cared that much," her frown grew into a slight smirk and she shrugged. "I mean, I know I care that much for them and all, but…I dunno…" She sighed.

"It just makes things…harder."

"Why is that?"

Artemis went silent for a while and Dinah waited patiently. After a minute or so, the archer finally piped up.

"I was never really…sad, that I was dead." When Dinah shot her a concerned look, she held up her hands. "I don't mean that in a suicidal way, it's just…"

Her voice dropped and she looked down at her hands, "Yeah, I died. But I died a hero. I died saving my friends, and trying to save the world. I mean," her eyes flicked up to meet Dinah's, "that's all I've really wanted. I'd rather die trying to help someone, than know that I could have done something to help, but never did, because I know what it's like to regret not helping someone, and I don't want to live or die feeling that."

"So yeah," she looked back down at her hands, "getting killed while saving my friends from aliens and making two less ships the world has to fight against was a pretty good way to go."

She sighed again smirked at Black Canary. "Or at least, I thought so, until I found out that I have these friends who actually care if I die."

Dinah picked up on her improved humor and smiled. "So, no plans on dying again anytime soon?" Artemis shook her head and Dinah lightly squeezed her shoulder. "I'm glad to hear that." She stood up and made her way to the door, but stopped short as Artemis spoke up again.

"If I had to though, I would."

Dinah turned around. "I know. We all would. It's part of being a hero. Sometimes there's sacrifice involved." She knew she had to tell the kids the truth, that death was waiting for them everywhere when it came to this job.

But she still kept as much hope inside as possible that their time for that would never have to come.


	3. Lines

**Title: **Lines

**Prompt: **Lol – an episode of How I met Your Mother, to be honest – though this is NOTHING to do with the show XD

**Characters: **Artemis Crock, (Wally/Artemis)

**Word Count: **866

**Author's Notes: **Another midnight fic! I have to admit, I love playing around with Artemis' character and how her views on different things would be.

**~o~**

They say there's a fine line between love and hate.

Artemis can't help but disagree.

There's no freakin' line.

At least, not in her life.

It starts with her parents, which is probably a given for any teenager, but Artemis knows that the issues underlying her relationship with her gene providers probably runs a little deeper than most fifteen year old girls. While most girls her age usually complain about not receiving enough freedom or independence from over-protective mothers and fathers, she has been handed the opposite. If that's the way you see it, that is.

Somehow, being encouraged to carry dangerous weapons and steal various items, doesn't seem to Artemis like the kind of freedom that most young women crave.

But she can't completely hate her parents for her upbringing; after all, it made her who she is today, and despite all things, she kind of likes the person she is. She knows, deep down, that they were thinking about her future and safety, in their own twisted and law-breaking way.

And besides, they're her parents, and as much as she'd sometimes like to, she can't just toss her love for them away.

She knows that she loves her mom, and that her mother loves her back, but there's also a small part of her, a tiny, evil spider crawling around in her mind, that makes the archer hate her mother. She hates the fact that she hasn't been around for six years, and the knowledge that even now she's finally back, she's still so broken and unsure of herself that she can't be the mother that Artemis has wanted for years. Artemis _hates_ the metal chair that constantly reminds her of everything her mother has done that she herself is against. She hates they way they're both trying so _hard_ to pretend that they're just a normal family in order to hide the demons that underly everything they do. Yes, Artemis loves her mother, but she _hates_ her too; there's not much distinction between the two.

It's easier to determine the line between love and hate when it comes to her father, even more so in the past few years. She holds a deep despise for everything he's done and stands for, and has for years, though out of the unfortunate tie of love that is weaved when one person share half their DNA with a person, she keeps her disgust a secret. She just wants to keep Daddy happy – let him continue to live in the oblivious bubble of his criminal life, believing that what he is doing is right, and that his youngest daughter is backing him up all the way.

The emerging hate for her sister is only a recent thing. Before Artemis joined the team, the only real feelings she had for Jade were love, sadness, loneliness and that small glimmer of childish hope, that one day she might come back. Although, that changed once she saw the new version of her older sister; the assassinating cat mask that has taken her place. Now, most of Artemis' hate for her Cheshire Cat guide has stemmed from disappointment. The older girl told her to find a way out, Artemis looked up to Jade's example and did get out, only to find that her inspiration had been sucked in and replaced by the Shadows. Jade had never really gotten out at all, and was more trapped than she thought. The Cheshire Cat truly was mad, and Artemis hated it for taking Jade s place.

Maybe it was an example of a lifelong habit melding into her personality, but Artemis couldn't help drawing out love from things she hated; or hate from things she loved. She loved fighting, despite hating doing wrong. She hated the attachments and weaknesses she made herself when she started caring too much for her friends. It was a common practice, even when it came to love interests, a topic which, incidentally, Artemis hated.

She had no idea how she managed to fall for the arrogant, loud-mouthed (_charming, soft-spoken_) speedster, when it was made clear, plenty of times, that they couldn't stand (_were somehow drawn_) to be near each other. She hated (_loved_) his cocky attitude (_confidence_). She hated (_loved_) his bull-headedness (_determination_). She hated (_loved_) that damn (_sweet_) grin and that stoplight red hair and that stupid metabolism that would have him stuffing his face during the most inconvenient of times.

She loved (_hated_) his smiling (_cheeky_) green eyes and how they never missed (_were always nosy_) a thing. She loved (_hated_) his smarts with science (_geekiness_). She loved (_hated_) the way he just happened to always be there (_never went away, ever_) when she wanted him and she loved (_hated_) the way his whole demeanour would change just like that if he suspected there was something wrong with her.

If Artemis had difficulties distinguishing the line between love and hate before, then when it came to Wally, she would need an X-ray machine and UV light to try and find it.

For her, there was no line between love and hate.

In fact, she wasn't even sure that there was any definition between the two at all.

~o~

**Next up, M'gann!**


	4. White

**Title: **White

**Prompt:** "How long do we keep putting our monsters in darks holes and pray they never see the light of day?"

**Characters:** M'gann M'orzz/Miss Martian

**Word Count: **871

**Author's Notes: **So I hardly ever write M'gann; usually I find her one of the most difficult characters to write (Kaldur totally beats her though), but I dunno, I'm happy with how this turned out. I went of the idea that her real history on Mars was similar to what it was like in the comics.

Dedicated to Melon, who is pretty much, my angst inspiration and always the first person I think of when I think of Megan.

**~o~**

White.

She is white.

She stares into the mirror, trembling; praying that what's being reflected back at her is just an illusion. A mind trick. Just weariness and emotions playing at her mentality. She looks down at her hands, recoiling at the appearance of harsh claws.

White.

"No, no, no, no," she whispers, drawing the ugly claws up to her head, noticing the absence of the deep auburn hair that usually atops it. She's glaring at the hideous reflection now, staring hard at the shrill red eyes that meet her own. The reflection snarls at her with its twisted mouth, and it takes a moment for her to realise that the snarl is hers, the eyes are hers, _this is her_.

White_._

The word hisses through her memory like a snake, slithering over her mind and wrapping around her, suffocating her, dripping its poison into her veins. She is affronted by a stream of memories that accompany the word, none of them particularly pleasant.

"_You're a _White_ Martian, M'gann! This is what White Martians do!"_

"_Ha! That Green Martian living on Earth, what does he hope to accomplish?"_

"_Benevolence and kindness is _not_ of our way, M'gann."_

"_You can never hope to be anything other than what you are."_

_STOP!_ She screams through her mind, unsure of what exactly she's trying to scream at. The monster in the mirror is grunting and twisting, its skeletal face distorting, its body hunched over.

No. She doesn't want to be this. This isn't her; not really. She's _not_ this.

White.

She forces herself to calm down, and the fiend reflection stops twisting for a moment and stares steadily into her. She just needs to concentrate, and she'll be able to shift herself back to normal.

_Normal._

Not white.

As she focuses on her reflection, a conversation she had with Artemis seeps into her thoughts. The younger girl had once stated how she was mildly jealous of M'gann's shape-shifting abilities, and her ability to make herself look however she wanted to look. Artemis has said that Miss Martian was "lucky" to not have deal with the same problems that girls on Earth had to deal with.

If only the archer knew.

But no. M'gann's internal struggle must remain that; only internal.

Or at least, it was supposed to.

White.

It's becoming more difficult, retaining the green, humanoid form that she shows to the team. Ever since the events of the training stimulation, there has been a growing unease settle in her stomach; a budding idea, planting itself in her telepathic mind. She knows now that her telepathic mind is strong, unbelievably strong, and while her uncle assures her that all Martians have varying strengths and weakness with different abilities, she can't stop the idea that real reason for her heightened telepathic talent lies in her true heritage.

White.

Of course, what else but this monster that confronts her in the mirror, could create a circumstance so horrifying, that not only does it almost kill all of her friends, but also mentally tortures them and leaves them with a terrifying and horrendous memory that could possibly haunt them forever?

She starts when a sharp knocking comes from her door. Artemis' voice follows it. "Hey M'gann, we're about to watch a movie. Wanna come?"

White.

"J-just, hang on! I'll be out soon." The clawed hands twitch across the dressing table, knocking over and pushing various items. A brush slides off the table and hits the floor with a thud.

"Hey," the unsure tone of Artemis' voice seeps through the door, "are you alright?"

No. White.

"F-fine!" M'gann stammers, "I'm fine!" She concentrates on the fiend in the mirror. Come on, come on, come on, come on…

"Meg…" The claws being to melt, a shade of green deepening through the white. "M'gann are yo-" The door is pushed open and M'gann whirls around to face a concerned Artemis. The younger girl gazes from the mess on the dressing table to M'gann, and frowns. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing!" The Martian sends her a flitting smile, "I was just being clumsy and knocked a few things over."

"Right…" Artemis doesn't look convinced. "Well, you coming?" M'gann nods, and starts to walk towards Artemis, but freezes when the archer gazes past her with wide eyes.

"What the hell happened to your mirror?" M'gann looks at the mentioned object, discovering the appearance of a large crack through the middle. She only has a slight glance at her reflection while she's at it, but is relieved to see the green that springs back at her. "Oops," she laughs, "I suppose I'll have to fix that later."

Artemis still doesn't look like she buys all of it, but rolls her eyes anyway and smirks, leaving the room. Once she is out of the room, M'gann looks once again at the mirror.

Green.

She sighs in relief, but halts when she meets her own eyes, and notes the subtle red glow. Another crack appears on the mirror and she quickly breaks free of her own reflection, flying out of the room and plastering on a smile and sunny disposition.

And hoping, with all her heart, that her friends won't notice any sign of transformation.

**~o~**

**And for the next one, we get a little Wally time! :)**


	5. Doubt

**Title:**Doubt

**Prompt:** A certain panel in Young Justice #11. Most of you would probably know what panel it is, but for those who don't, there's a link up on my profile.

**Characters:** Artemis Crock/Artemis, Wally West/Kid Flash

**Word Count: **701

**Author's Notes: **Kent Nelson's funeral. I know I said that a Wally-centric one was coming, but while I was writing that, the bunny for this hit me and I ended up writing it.

This could probably be considered the first of a two-parter. "Doubt" fits in with the title "Denial" (I use the same theme with the second part - the _actual _Wally-centric part)

**~O~**

It's raining.

Why does it_ always_ rain at funerals?

The stinging drops don't help ease the chill that's already present during the sombre occasion, and Artemis can feel the water leaking through her, matting her hair and making her costume sticky and cold.

She feels an itch on her right arm, and her fingernails snag on the black band wrapped around it. Red Tornado had pulled some out before they all went to the cemetery, and while most of the others passed on displaying the symbol of loss, both Artemis and Kid Flash had felt an obligation to wear one each, having know and spoken to the former Doctor Fate just before his death.

It's an eerie feeling, having spoken to and being with a man five minutes before his death, and not something she had taken into account when it came to being a hero. It feels stupid, only realizing it now, but Artemis had forgotten about one of the main problems when it came to being a hero.

People die. People you know. And even though she had only known Mr. Nelson for an elevator trip, there was still a sense of emptiness that was left behind.

But she can't even imagine what Wally feels

She knows that it's probably wrong to be paying this much attention to the speedster while at a funeral - not a great show of respect and all - but she can't stop herself. Every moment something is said, or someone moves, she finds herself glancing at him, watching for his reaction, searching his posture and expression for any clue as to what he's feeling. She tries to focus on the grave, the headstone, Red Tornado's eulogy, but the sense of the red-haired speedster slips past all that, and she can't shake off her concern and confusion towards him.

It's just…

He looks so…_angry._

His fists clench when Red Tornado mentions Kent being with his wife, a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed by Artemis' target-searching eyes. While everyone else is gazing at the headstone, or Red Tornado, Wally glares fiercely at the grass under his feet. He doesn't look sad or guilty or wistful like everybody else around the grave; he looks _pissed._

And Artemis can't figure out why.

She understands that he's probably mad at himself for not being able to help Kent, she is herself. She keeps going through the bargaining process of grief everyday; what if she had gone with them up to the top of the tower? What if she and Wally had managed to get there just a little bit sooner? What if Red Tornado, Kent's old ally, had gone in place of the team (and she sometimes wonders if he ever regrets sending them instead of going himself)? There are all these different scenarios and situations that they could have gone through, but they ended up going through the one that concluded with a dead hero.

So yes, she is annoyed and upset that it ended up working out the way it did - that Klarion killed Mr. Nelson, but she compares her anger to the anger she can read of Wally's face, and it's nowhere near the fury that he is radiating, and she can't understand why.

She wishes that he would have told her the truth about what happened with the helmet (that bioscription crap? She can see right through that excuse), but Wally's not telling anyone, unconsciously making the topic a taboo subject. He's quickly brought the Kid Flash façade back up; cocky, sceptical and untouchable, and any hint of a different guy that Artemis thought she had seen is gone.

Until now. While he stands in front of the grave of a man who had died in front of him.

Once the main part of the funeral is over (and after she's run it through her mind for half and hour), she has come to the decision that she's going to ask him about what's going on.

But of course, being Kid Flash, he wastes no time in getting out of there, and Artemis herself is held back by Batman and Green Arrow.

And by the time she finishes, she has forgotten about it.

~o~

**Next part coming soon!**


	6. Headspin

**Title: Headspin**

**Prompt: Traught - headspin**

**Characters/Pairings: Dick G./Nightwing, Artemis C./Artemis, Conner K./Superboy - some Traught if you're squinting the right way**

**Words: 306**

**A/N: I haven't updated this in a while, but I've got quite a few drabbles floating around my tumblr at the moment, so over the next few days I'll be adding more chapters!**

**~o~**

The term that he'd probably use for what happens when he opens his eyes would be head-spinning; concussion. Really though, his head isn't the one spinning; the world is spinning around his head (Worldspin? Roomspin?). His head is staying in place - albeit, a little wobbly - trying to make sense of the whirling kaleidoscope above it.

The only thing that is constant among the chaos of everything else, is the golden halo just to the right of him, and the cold pressure of an ice pack on his head. _I thought angels were supposed to make you feel better,_ he thinks, and the absurd idea of a dizzy angel comes into his head and before he can stop himself, he begins snickering, drawing the attention of the haloed figure above him.

"Jeez, about time you woke up," he hears Artemis' voice mutter from the angel's face, and more laughter begins to bubble up his throat.

Dick hears the low voice of Conner from behind him. "How hard did you hit him?" and the cool pressure is lifted off his forehead as he hears Artemis begin to get agitated.

"I didn't mean to! I thought he would be able to dodge it! He manages to dodge it every other time, so, i-it's his fault for not paying attention and getting out of the way!" Conner must make shake his head or make a gesture, because Artemis hisses again. "What?"

"You better make sure you didn't do any permanent damage, or Batman will kill you." Oh shit. Batman. Nightwing lets out another cackle as he hears Conner step away.

Artemis groans, and begins to sit him up, and the world starts spinning once more. "I swear to god, Boy Wonder," she mutters as she pulls him to his feet, "You're going to be the death of me."


	7. Laugh about this

**Title: Laugh about this**

**Prompt: A graphic I saw on tumblr**

**Characters/Pairings: Artemis C./Artemis, Dick G./Robin - minor Traught if you want to see it that way**

**Words: 593**

**A/N: This is kind of AU on what happened at the end of Homefront.**

**~O~**

"You said we'll laugh about this someday," she hisses bitterly, ripping off the edge of a split nail and glaring at the unconscious boy in front of her. "No one's laughing, you _Dick_." With the last word, she kicks the bed and scowls.

(She immediately regrets kicking the bed.)

Her eyes dart up to the door warily, making sure that no one is looking through the window and seeing her right now. She can't bear the idea of anyone else seeing her right now, this weak. Not while she's still in her dirty torn up uniform and her hair is still soaking wet and her face is covered in dirt, sweat and ash, broken up by crisp lines on her cheeks that are most definitely _not_ tear tracks. She doesn't want them to see her while her muscles are still wound up tight with terror, and she's finally starting to feel the aches from escaping the Reds and even though she keeps clenching her fists, her hands just won't stop freaking shaking.

If this is what being a hero means, being thrown down to your weakest point and trying to avoid everyone from seeing you this way, Artemis would love to quit the gig right now.

She couldn't even speak properly when Batman asked her to explain what had happened. Her mouth opened up but her voice stuck in her throat and eventually Aqualad and Kid Flash had to take over and fill in with what they could, both of them explaining bluntly, quickly and as calmly as they could, and Artemis watched them in envy, because they're both able to keep it together as much as possible right now, whereas she had been yelling hysterically at Robin during the whole attack on the cave, and ended up freaking out and paralyzing herself and causing the delay which is _why Robin ended up like this._

"He'll be fine," Wally had murmured as the Boy Wonder, looking so much smaller than Artemis thought he was, was taken to the medical bay in the cave and hooked up to monitors, with a tube inserted down his throat to push oxygen into his lungs. "He's _Robin_," Wally had swallowed, "he'll be fine." Artemis hadn't really been listening to him though, and instead watching his lungs rise up and down, because if she didn't they might stop moving and go still like they had been when she had rushed up to him after the EMP surge.

Wally's right though. This is _Robin._ He's _Batman's kid_.

Artemis forgot that that fact didn't grant him immortality - and despite being Robin, he was the same as her. He was still breakable.

She finds it sick though, that she only realizes this now because she knows who's behind the mask; who Robin actually is.

(She needs to stop calling him Robin at this moment, come to think of it.)

It never would have crossed her mind that the quirky freshman who had sidled up and taken her picture this morning was the same boy (boy! He's just a boy!) who had been calming her down and planning wildly in his mind a solution while they had been bent over and panting in the ventilation system of the cave. As she realizes it now, he had given her clues, but still.

He, like her, had probably imagined that she would have found out his identity some other way than this, and she wishes that she had - because unlike what Dick was probably hoping, neither of them are laughing about this.


	8. Clatter

**Title: Clatter**

**Prompt: Zatanna - word: Clatter**

**Characters/Pairing: Zatanna Z.**

**Words: 481**

**A/N: Set anytime after Auld Acquaintance**

**~o~**

It seems like this is the only thing she can control now; her magic – and noise. Though really being able to control her magic is a stretch; if she had true control over it, she would be able to free her father from the Helmet of Fate. She'd be able to fix her past mistakes that trapped him there, and lock that helmet prison away – secured in place with multiple spells, so no one can ever, _ever_, be able to put it on again.

But she doesn't have that control. She's still a rookie; inexperienced no matter how late she'll stay up in her room trying to strengthen her spells. She can't control any proper magic, she can't control the fate of her father (ha – 'Fate'), she can't control where she now lives, or where she goes to school (she had to transfer over to the same school as M'gann and Conner after Christmas break), she can't control herself.

She's had a feeling like this before; she always felt that she had no control whilst living under the wing of her protective father – but boy, was she wrong.

The only thing she can control, is how much noise she makes.

She was probably influenced into this idea through watching Artemis; after living at the cave for a while, she's noticed the blonde girl's habit of attacking the punching bags or shooting targets when she's in a bad mood (though she never really understood the idea until now, seeing as the act just seems to make Artemis even angrier than before with every hit or shot, until she's too worn out to feel angry anymore). One night, after a particularly bad day (the first Thanksgiving, if she's remember correctly), she accidentally knocks the lamp off her bedside table, watching it hit the ground and shatter. The noise makes her jump, but it also snaps something inside. That fiercely strung tension stomach snaps and her chest doesn't feels so tight anymore. She almost feels…_calm_.

Next time, she drops books – pushing ever so slightly on a pile that sits at the top of her bookshelf. The time after that, she holds a pair of boots high and releases them onto the stone floor of the cave with a loud clatter.

Sometimes M'gann will poke her head into the room with a concerned look on her face, or Conner will inquire as to the loud noise he keeps hearing from her room when they're having dinner. Zatanna shrugs it off, joking that she's always been a klutz, and anything that she 'accidentally' breaks, she can easily fix with a repair charm. Neither of them say anymore after that; she seems happier – less tense – at least, so if they are suspicious that there's more going on than Zatanna says, they don't want to pry.

And Zatanna will keep controlling noise without the queries of anyone else.


	9. Give In

**Title: Give in**

**Prompt: A friend told me to stop writing sad Bluepulse all the time. Naturally, I did the opposite.**

**Characters: Jaime Reyes, Bart Allen**

**Words: 740**

**A/N: I really ought to stop killing these two...**

~o~

The first thing he notices is the smell. It's sharp, tangy and while he can't place it at first, it still makes his stomach flip in horror.

His ears ring, but other than that, it's dead quiet.

"What-" he winces at the rawness of his throat. "What did you do?" he croaks aloud. He tries to focus on the ground, and his hands in front of his face as he waits for a reply.

He doesn't get one. He waits and waits and waits, but the scarab remains silent.

His hand reaches up to wipe at the sweat - is it sweat? - on his cheeks, and he gives a long exhale, letting the sound echo in the silence around him.

He takes one glance at the hand that he has just rubbed against his face. Among the salty wetness and crusted dirt that was on his cheeks, streaks of red line his fingers.

"What did I do?"

It's this red that catches his focus, and his eyes suddenly move to follow the colour across his line of sight. More red has gathered on the dirt just ahead of him; a rich, dark red blurs into the bright red that seems to mirror the shape of two boots.

There's something grasping at his throat, squeezing and pulling and choking him. He doesn't want to look up.

However, as he tells himself not to look, his traitorous eyes glance up. The claw around his windpipe tightens.

He can't even scream. He just releases a bubbled, strangled noise and drops his face into dirt and blood covered hands. He grasps at his hair and pushes the heels of his palms into his eye sockets before his hard jerks back up, and his meets the solemn green eyes that are boring into his. there no more spark, no more glint or glitter - just shadow.

"I-…I couldn't…do it," Bart forces out with a wheeze, while Jaime's eyes move down to stare in horror at the large blue staple that pins the young speedster to the rock behind him through his midsection. Jaime's shaking his head in in small, trembling movement, and his lips and teeth wobble so much that he he bites down on his tongue.

"Ss…sorry…Jaime." Jaime keeps his teeth pressed down on his tongue as Bart gives out a horrible, bubbling hack, blood spilling out from his lips. "I tr…tried."

Jaime is crawling on the ground in front of him, muttering "no" continuously. Bart rests his head against the rock behind him and closes his eyes, because _god_, it hurts; the metal that's been run through his body, the crippling failure of not saving Jaime from himself, the knowledge that it didn't work. He came here for nothing. He failed. He failed Jaime. He failed the past. He failed the future. He failed himself.

He can just feel shaking fingers that are running up the backs of his calves, and despite the fingers of darkness that pull at the corners of his consciousness, he smiles. The fingers continue their ways up his body, tentatively stroking, as if he'll break if prodded too hard.

Once the fingers lay to rest on his cheeks, he opens his eyes to meet the dirty, tear and blood-streaked face of Jaime. The older boy's face crumples up and he rests his forehead against Bart's, murmuring "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry". Bart closes his eyes once more and strains to lift a hand to rest on the back of Jaime's neck.

It's once Bart's hand finally slips from behind Jaime's neck that Jaime finally breaks away. He pushes himself away from the body and stumbles backwards until he's curled up on the dirt, his hands violently pulling at his hair and his voice letting out hoarse and wet whimpers.

He still can't believe that the only sound around him is his own pain.

_Get up_.

"Go. Away."

_Negative. Get up._

"No!" His hands jerk away from his head to grasp at the dirt. "Just leave! Go! I never wanted you!"

Black and blue armor starts to creep around his back.

"I never wanted you…"

It shunks as the hard exoskeleton slips into place.

"I never wanted any of this…"

Black slides over the blood and dirt-stained fingers.

"Just go. _Please_ just go."

He hears a click behind the back of his neck, where Bart's hand had rested.

_Negative._

The helmet folds over his face.

_My turn._

He gives in.

_Goodbye, Jaime Reyes._


	10. Bloody Bird

**Title: bloody bird**

**Prompt: Once again, a friend telling me to stop writing sads**

**Characters: Dick Grayson, Kaldur'ahm**

**Words: 380**

**A/N: This is essentially what happens when I have resorted to writing on twitter and want to torture my friends**

~o~

He tries to arch his neck up - get a better view of what's happening around him - but there's a screaming, hot pressure on his chest, and blood is forcing itself up the back of his throat. His best effort is to roll his head to the side; his eyes dart around wildly, stretching in his skull. He can only see an obscure, cloudy view of the fight around him, and he tries to focus his eyes on the quick, dancing feet of Batgirl as she tries to dodge the attacks of the Atlantean in front of her.

Dick can tell that she's not focusing properly. She's distracted - she's distracted because of /him/ - and he instantly curses himself for letting his guard down so easily and putting her into this situation. For assuming that Kaldur was on their side - for not thinking about what Manta and the Light could have done to him while trying to retrieve his memories. He kicks himself for not concerning himself earlier, when Wally words: "how do you know that he's not playing you too?" were ringing through his head, or when he realized that it had been three weeks since he had heard from Artemis - since she told him what M'gann had done to Kaldur. He was under the foolish, childish impression that it'll all work out okay. That everything will still go according to plan. That maybe they'll all be able to one day go back to the cave - all of them, as it was five years ago - and everything will be easy again.

Kaldur finally manages to knock Batgirl unconscious, flinging her into a stack of crates off to the side, and Dick opens his mouth to try and call out. All he manages however, is a strangled, bubbling noise and a cough; blood sprays out from his lips. Kaldur, noticing him again, walks over slowly to tower above him, looking down with a stone-faced expression.

"Kal-" Dick coughs out. "Kaldur…plea- please…I'm your…I'm your friend…" Kaldur continues to stare down at Dick boredly.

"I do not know you," Kaldur says robotically, as his water bearer forms a sword and he brings it down to meet the bird insignia on Dick's chest once again.


	11. my spaceship is bigger than yours

**Title: my spaceship is bigger than yours**

**Prompt: AU. Wally and Artemis as rival space captains.**

**Characters: Wally West, Artemis Crock**

**Words: 600**

**A/N: Okay, I dug into my Firefly knowledge and had a LOT of fun with this one. So much fun, in fact, that I'm working on a very long continuation of this AU. Keep an eye out for it!**

~o~

He keeps _looking_ at her, with that stupid smug grin on his face; completely out of place with his unkempt, _(impossibly)_ red hair, torn and dirtied clothes, and tired bags under his eyes, one of which has blackened from the day before, courtesy of her own right hook.

Oh, and adding to the fact that he's contained in _her_ ship's prison cell, with_ no_ hope of escaping, unless she was feeling _really_ nice (which to him, she would _never_ feel).

Yet, he keeps on grinning.

She's seen it before; the suave smile he'll send to any female, whether it be a member of his on crew, a normal civilian of a planet, or _(infuriatingly enough)_ a member of her crew. But it's never directed towards her. Never. The looks he saves for her mirror the ones she has especially for him; glares of rivalry, eyerolls of disgust, scoffs of incredulity.

But the only time a smile comes into play, is when one of them knows they have topped the other - just like the smirk she had sent him when she had captured him.

He's up to something.

She flicks the ship over to autopilot and directs her second-in-command, and her best friend, Zatanna, to watch the helm, before she stalks over to the cell behind her and glares right at him - Wally West, captain of the infamous ship "The Flash" (really, who in their right mind calls a ship_ "The Flash"?_), and her greatest rival in the galaxy. "_Spill_, West," she hisses, causing the redheaded man to raise his eyebrows and straighten up.

"Oh, I'd love to, but…" he looks around his cell, stark empty and completely dirty (she had made sure it was nice and muddied up, especially for him), "…you haven't actually given me any water or liquid to spill. Or any food for that matter. I have a fast metabolism, you know. I could starve if you don't give me any food." He raises a cocky eyebrow. "Is this really how the notorious Captain Crock treats her prisoners?"

Artemis bites back a retort about how watching him eat would make all of her crew physically ill and pushes on her main point. "No prisoner just sits there with a smirk on their face. _Especially_ not you. What have you got planned?"

West leans forward and pushes himself to his feet, beginning to pace around the cell. "I have no idea what you're talking about, _Captain_." He brings his face in front of hers, and she can count every offending freckle that sits on his nose, mocking her. She opens her mouth to say more, but is cut off by a crash and a lurch of the ship. A cackle echos through the ship's loudspeaker system, and Artemis jerks her head back to look at the prison, breathing, "Robin," before the power goes out, leaving the cabin in darkness and the prison, with its containment bars reliant on electricity, rendered useless.

"Well," she hears Wally say (she can _still hear_ the grin on his damn face!), "that's my cue." There's a scuffle of feet and another whisper right next to her ear. "We have to do this again sometime, Captain Crock. Though I'll be sure to be much more hospitable host for your visit." She whirls around to punch him again; grab him, trip him, _anything_, but brushes empty air, just as the ship's back-up generator switches the power back on, and she finds herself in an empty room with a smelly and dirty prison cell and seething anger.


	12. Promise

**Title: Promise**

**Prompt: A graphic made by kg1507 on tumblr**

**Characters: Conner Kent, Garfield Logan**

**Words: 680**

**A/N: Ahh! Sorry I haven't updated these in a while - but I've got a few drabbles lingering around my tumblr, so tonight's the night for a mass uploading. **

**Here's a small drabble of one of my other brotps. It makes me sad that Gar has been missing in the last few episodes, especially with big things happening that are relevant to him - like, you know - ****_his sister being kidnapped_****. But yes - I was bitter and this happened.**

~o~

The shift of the curtain is slight; tentative. He would almost have missed the movement if it weren't for the soft sniff that accompanied it. Conner freezes and listens, hearing the sound of something brushing on the ground in a rhythmic movement. Something almost like a…

"Gar?"

The curtain shuffles again and Gar's nervous expression pokes in to face him. "Are…are you busy?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Conner shakes his head and gestures for the younger boy to come in, and Gar slips past the curtain partition that now separates each of the beds in their 'warehome' and seats himself on the end of the bed next to the clone.

"What's up, kid?" Conner asks, rubbing a hand over his face while Gar pulls his feet up so his knees are tucked up underneath his chin. In all honesty, Conner is ready to just lay down on his bed and try to run through the enormity of everything he has found out today. Dick told both him and La'gaan to keep the information of both Artemis and Kaldur being undercover quiet for the moment, but Conner doesn't understand how it's even going to be possible to keep it quiet for much longer.

Especially now with M'gann's 'kidnapping' and half the team ready to burst in to get her after being told sketchy details of the incident by Nightwing.

"Do you think they're gonna kill her?" The abruptness of Gar's question snaps Conner back to reality, and he jerks his head to look at the boy in astonishment. Gar's looking up at him steadily, waiting for an answer with eyes of both fear and pleading.

"I-" His face scrunches up as he tries to think of what to say. "Gar…"

"Do you? Do you think that's why they took her? 'Cause…" The younger boy chews on his bottom lip. "Because I was there when she took down Aqualad, and…and I don't know what was going on in their heads, but they might have taken her because they wanted to get payback. And-…and."

"Gar." Before he know is, Conner's hands are squeezing the younger boy's shoulders and he's brought his head down to be level with Gar's. "Stop. She's going to be fine. Come on. You know there's no way your sister would let anyone…hurt her that easily."

Gar doesn't meet his eyes. "She'd never let anyone kidnap her that easily, either."

Conner freezes, and when he doesn't reply, Gar lifts his head to stare at him. "There's something else, isn't there? There's something else that's going on that you won't tell me."

For a moment, Conner has to do a double-take and try and figure out: when in the past few months did Gar manage to get so small, yet years wiser than his age? And how is it that Conner, or anyone else, didn't notice before now?

When was it, that the little, enthusiastic boy that liked to swing off and around his shoulders, was forced to grow up so suddenly?

Conner can feel his throat going dry as he opens his mouth to try and answer Gar. Gar, obviously noticing his discomfort, shrugs and digs his chin back into his knees and stares at the floor. "You don't have to tell me what it is," he mutters, "but I know there's something."

He sniffs. "Just…promise me something?"

"Sure, Gar."

"Promise me we're going to get her back, and that she's going to be okay?" He turns towards Conner and the older boy notes the tears that have begun to spill out from his eyes. "Promise me. I ca-…Conner, I cant…I can't lose M'gann too."

Conner doesn't need to even think about it. His arm moves around the back of Gar's shoulders and pulls the younger boy to him, letting him bury his face into his shirt. He moves his thumb in slow circles on Gar's arm, trying to mimic the movement that he has seen M'gann do countless times before, replies to Gar in a soft voice.

"You wont. I promise."


End file.
